


wearing thin

by saretus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Body Worship, Crossdressing, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stiletto Heels, Table Sex, i can't believe im using these tags, jaflksmflkasm, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-25 12:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saretus/pseuds/saretus
Summary: Fill for: 'For whatever reason, Ignis is wearing a pencil skirt, stockings, and stilettos when his boyfriend gets home from the Citadel that day. The boyfriend tries to continue having a normal evening as Ignis chatters away on his phone and cooks dinner, but eventually gives in and bends Ignis over a table, takes his phone away, rucks his skirt up, and goes to town.'





	wearing thin

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11073338#cmt11073338).

Iggy has legs for _days_.

Noct knows it. Hell, he’s pretty sure half the damn _Citadel_ knows it but looking at ‘em isn’t _their_ business. Nah, it’s _his_ and his alone, which is why he’s given Iggy a _specific_ set of instructions to follow just before he comes home from work.

So Noct is fumbling at the door knob when he finally arrives, clumsy in his haste to just _see_ , and he inwardly thanks the fact that Iggy hasn’t left the door locked. He’s certain his mind’s been taken over by his own imagination enough that basic functions aren’t completely possible right now. As it is, he’s tossing his bag to the side and barely registers the sound of soft humming halting the moment Noct accidentally slams the door shut.

“Good evening, darling,” Iggy calls from the kitchen and Noct immediately makes his way over to the archway.

He pauses just inside the kitchen. Stares.

Dinner smells good. _Looks_ good, too, and Noct figures it’s one of his favourites judging by the rice steaming on a plate just beside the stove while Iggy’s stirring some sorta curry but he’s really hungry for something _else_ right now and, yeah, Noct’s pretty sure his brain’s short-circuiting because Iggy’s wearing a _skirt_.

Like, an _actual skirt_. A pencil one, Noct thinks, one that hugs his thighs tightly all the way up to his hips, outlining his ass and the dip of his back. He’s strangely taller than usual and not wearing any top, which should _look_ weird, but on Ignis it just looks _hot_. He watches the curves of his shoulder blades for a moment, watches the way he deftly slices some pieces of meat and the motions of his arms, and _definitely_ watches the way his ass flexes just a tiny bit when he leans forward to turn the heat up on the curry.

Then he remembers what exactly he’s asked Iggy of in the first place and his eyes travel down, down to the faint sheen of material covering his knees and calves and—oh, those are fucking _stilettos._ Black ones, too, with material that weaves intricate patterns over the top of his feet and with heels that are _really fucking high_. Shit, Noct should’ve expected it, really. Iggy wouldn’t _just_ wear stocking garters like Noct had requested, of course he’d go all the way because it’s _Iggy_ …

“Iggy—,” Noct starts, voice hoarse, and he’s starting forward to do—to do _something_ but Iggy glances back at him, a finger over faintly smiling lips, and Noct halts in his path.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Iggy murmurs, picking up his phone from the counter and briefly swiping through something on the screen. “Sit down at the table for me, love. I’ve only one call to make and then I’ll bring you some food.”

The waiting game. Iggy’s suggesting a _waiting game_ after the many hours Noct’s been thinking about this and Noct is pretty sure Iggy hears the low whine that comes from his lips because of the way Iggy chuckles. Still, there’s excitement rising in Noct too. Normally, he’d complain, but five more minutes wouldn’t kill him. Not yet, anyway.

Besides, Iggy’s probably dying to do something, too. Noct’ll play this game if only to get Iggy just as hot and bothered as him.

Yet when he goes and sits down at the table, he regrets. Shit, he can still see Iggy from here, just chatting away on his phone and stirring the pot absentmindedly. And is it his imagination or is Iggy actually _poking his ass out_ like he knows Noct’s watching? Which, yeah, _confirmed_ when Iggy glances back with a frustratingly innocent look.

So Noct fidgets and imagines what he’ll do to Iggy once he’s finished. Tug him to bed immediately? But—the _food_. Then again, Noct _really_ wants to see what other fun stuff Iggy’s got up his, well, skirt. Noct hadn’t specified that, nor the stilettos, but he’s digging it now. _Really_ digging. Wants to _literally_ dig it.

Gods, how long will Iggy _take_ , though? Another low sound escapes Noct’s lips, completely involuntarily, and his cheeks heat up when Iggy glances back again with a bemused look, still murmuring something into his phone. Noct tries looking at the table, then looks at Iggy again, then looks at the table then gets out his phone to try distracting himself with King’s Knight. It doesn’t work.

After _ten_ minutes—Noct definitely hadn’t been counting—he decides to get up. Iggy doesn’t hear him approach and gives a startled noise when Noct yanks the phone out of his hand and hangs up on whoever it was. He reaches over to the other side to turn off the stove and he’s pulling at Iggy, manhandling him until he’s facing Noct and Noct tilts his head up to glare at him

“Not gonna wait any longer,” he mumbles before reaching up and curling a hand around Iggy’s nape to bring him down and press his lips against Iggy, effectively silencing whatever protest was taking shape in his mouth.

Iggy melts against him, which is _great_ —Iggy’s always melting against him, one way or another, and Noct loves the way his hands clutch at his waist, almost desperately. A small noise escapes Iggy before he’s pressing harder into the kiss, mouth meshing against Noct’s, and Noct immediately presses closer to him, needy, his own hands grasping at Iggy’s ass to bring their hips together. Noct can’t help but moan feeling the clear hardness pressing against his own waist and, yeah, that settles it. They aren’t gonna make it to the bedroom.

They keep kissing even as Noct tugs them over to the table. Iggy stumbles a little at the suddenness but quickly rights himself, and Noct remembers the stilettos and the height of those heels and he groans heavily against Iggy’s lips, nearly just shoving him against the table as his hips start grinding a little uselessly against Iggy’s waist.

“I wore them—the garters—and lingerie, too,” Iggy gasps out between kisses, clutching at him desperately, and his head dips as he presses heavy kisses along Noct’s jaw before descending to his neck. Noct tilts his head back, eyes fluttering close at the attention given to the side of his neck then his pulse point. “Wore them for you to see,” Iggy murmurs against his skin, and Noct sucks in a sharp breath when he bites hard and immediately starts licking and sucking at the spot as if to soothe it.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Noct breathes out hoarsely, “and you added extras too, huh?”

“I was—afraid you wouldn’t like it.” Iggy draws back, then, looking at him searchingly. “You do, don’t you?”

“I love it, actually,” Noct corrects, quickly, and leans up to kiss him again. And again.

His hands start massaging at Iggy’ ass and Noct hears a desperate noise muffled by his own lips. As much fun as it is making out with Iggy, Noct’s waited _way_ too long to see the rest for himself. He presses one last placating kiss on Iggy’s lips before he stands on his tiptoes to purr into his ear. “Turn around.”

Iggy does so immediately—always _does_ do things immediately and that only makes Noct harder every time—and Noct pulls back a bit to admire his back a bit before he places a hand firmly on his upper back and pushes him down flat onto the table. Iggy squirms a little, ass rocking back a little as if to speed things up, but Iggy’s made _him_ wait, so Noct’s gonna make him wait now. Only a few minutes, though. It gives him long enough to just _stare_ , after all.

And stare he does. His hands smooth up the backs of Iggy’s thighs and Iggy goes on his tiptoes as if to follow the motion. Noct swallows, hears a breathy moan from Iggy’s end, but squats down first to see the stretch of the stockings on Iggy’s legs. Iggy spreads his thighs a bit when Noct’s leans in to kiss the inside of his knee, and shudders when Noct runs his hands up the back of his legs again and towards the hem of his skirt before trying to slip under it. It’s tight, though, with the skirt, and Noct gives a soft huff as he starts inching the material up, inch by inch, to reveal stockings that cut off mid-thigh and instead continue through the small black belts leading up to black lace that barely covers Iggy’s ass and even more barely contains the hard length of his cock. Noct can feel it, fingers tracing over the mounds of his ass once more before winding around to the front. Iggy’s hips jerk forward when Noct’s fingers squeeze at his cock, half-covered by the lingerie, and Noct ignores the soft whimpers when he thumbs at the tip of Iggy’s cock and pulls away his hand to lick at the precome. He pays attention to the transparent sheen of black covering Iggy’s ass, and gently pats at his inner thigh for Iggy to spread his legs further. Thumbs digging into either side of Iggy’s ass, he parts them more to see Iggy’s entrance already prepped and ready to go.

“Fuck,” Noct breathes out, hoarsely, and can’t help but lean forward and drag the flat of his tongue over Iggy’s crack. He tastes the wetness of the lube and the sweat, but also feels the slight roughness of the lingerie and the way Iggy’s hole clenches involuntarily at the feeling.

“Noct, Noct, _please_ —,” Iggy finally chokes out, the words sounding almost like a sob, and Noct figures he’s kept him waiting long enough. Kept them _both_ waiting long enough.

He stands again and Iggy’s arches his back, grasping at the other edge of the table. His hands trace Iggy’s ass, and he admires the way the skirt bunches up around his waist. Quickly, he undoes his pants and pulls out his stiff cock, almost _aching_ now from how long it’s been.

“Lube?” Noct breathes out, thumbing at the hem of the underwear and pulling it away enough for his cock to rub at Iggy’s entrance.

“ _Yes_ ,” Iggy moans out, and at first Noct thinks it’s ‘cause of the way Noct presses in just the head of his cock, but then Iggy continues. “I used a lot just before you came. Just—just, _please_ —!” The word tapers off into a low moan as Noct finally sinks in to the hilt, and Noct gives a stuttered moan of his own feeling the way Iggy’s ass clenches and flutters around him. It’s perfect, always so _perfect_ and he can’t help but start thrusting already.

“Shit, Iggy,” Noct gasps out, rolling his hips in a way that has Iggy throwing his head back with a wordless cry, “you’re so good—!”

“Oh, gods, Noct,” Iggy babbles mindlessly, clawing at the table uselessly as he tries to move his hips back in sync, “Noct, Noct, _Noct_!”

Moans are punched out from Iggy from each thrust and Noct starts thrusting harder, holding Iggy firmly by the waist, fingers curling among the material of the skirt. Iggy feels so _good_ and Noct wants to keep chasing the high Iggy’s giving him, wants to keep seeing Iggy writhe and beg under him, his legs bending and turning a little as if to take Noct deeper.

The lingerie rips. Noct hears it, sees it, and ultimately doesn’t care. He goes harder and Iggy lets out a garbled cry every so often, as if he’s lost the breath for speaking, and Noct reaches around to feel the way his cock’s slipped free of the lingerie and is bouncing, slapping against Iggy’s own thigh and the table.

A few strokes are all it takes for Iggy to burst, his whole body stiffening and flexing, a wanton cry escaping him. His thighs tremble and jerk when Noct keeps fucking him through his orgasm, and Iggy gives small ‘ _ah_ ’s each time Noct drives into his probably oversensitive prostate.

It doesn’t take long for Noct to reach his own peak. He’s about to finish off inside Iggy but, shit, his hands clench around the material of the skirt again and he hurriedly pulls out, cock throbbing at the throaty moan Iggy gives at the sensation, and he manages to pull the skirt down enough to spend himself over the crinkled material, gasping loudly as the orgasm burns through him.

Iggy’s still twitching a little when Noct finally comes down from his high, but he easily moves when Noct gives a small tug at his waist. Iggy turns again, panting still and red-faced, and immediately pulls Noct close to kiss him languidly and a little messily, moaning quietly into his mouth. Noct closes his eyes and just enjoys it, feeling a familiar weariness descending on his limbs but manages to reach out and grab Iggy’s hand, feel the band around his fourth finger, and squeeze tightly enough for Iggy to squeeze back in return.

“Love you,” Noct mumbles into his lips, and Iggy hums softly in response.

“I love you too, Noct.” Iggy pulls back, hazy-eyed but affectionate, and thumbs at his lower lip. “Dinner will be cold, though.”

Noct snorts, and just leans up to kiss him again. “Worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> concrit totally welcome! i can't believe i smashed this out instead of... everything else i gotta do lkamsf


End file.
